


let it be me

by imfallingforyoureyes102



Series: On the Outside Looking In [10]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Hurt Felicity Smoak, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Protective Oliver Queen, olicity - Freeform, on the outside looking in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22781575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imfallingforyoureyes102/pseuds/imfallingforyoureyes102
Summary: “Oh yes, Felicity’s here,” Tommy spits out venomously. “So what? I’m having a really hard time tolerating or liking you right now, Oliver, and you expect me to care about some blonde bimbo that magically became your EA as soon as you became CEO? Do you know how much you hurt Laurel -,”“Excuse me, Mr. Queen?”Oliver turns to face the doctor, his skin a thousand times paler when he sees the harrowing expression on the surgeon's face.Oh God.(Or, Tommy's at the hospital with an injured Laurel, ten times pissed at Oliver, when he sees the man himself racing past Laurel's room and to the ER. Tommy's quick to stop him - quick to scream furiously at the man he once called his best friend - but then there's a doctor andMs. Smoak may not make it through the nightand the man that Tommy once knew as indestructible and sturdy and strong is shattering into a million pieces).
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: On the Outside Looking In [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1319063
Comments: 138
Kudos: 760





	let it be me

**Author's Note:**

> Tommy viewing our fav couple! But! with! angst!
> 
> I just want to preface this by saying that I love both Tommy and Laurel and I don't ever think either of them would intentionally hate Felicity or wish for her pain. I do think that seasons 1 and 2 and Oliver returning from the dead and then spending all of his time with his body guard and an IT girl may have created some issues between Oliver and the people who have literally known him his whole life, so I wanted to kinda explore that. 
> 
> Sorry if this is out of character!
> 
> Just know that in this, Tommy knows Oliver is the Hood and does NOT agree with what he does. He's also "with" Laurel and is hurt when Oliver doesn't seem to care about her well-being. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!! Thanks so so so much for reading and for all of your kind words on my last fic. Love you all!

Tommy Merlyn is an easy-going man.

In the third grade, Melissa Marrano had dumped her entire lunch over Tommy’s new  _ special edition _ comic book because he had kissed another girl on the playground (whoops) and Tommy had barely even bat an eye as he wiped the rancid meatloaf from his book and carried on with his day.

It was eight year old Oliver Queen that had ended up in the Principal’s Office after being caught dumping that same lunch into Melissa Marrano’s backpack. His defense: Tommy was his boy, and you  _ always  _ had your boy’s back.

In high school, Stacey Cutting, captain of the swim team, had crashed Tommy’s new Bentley into the fountain in the front lawn during one of the  _ numerous _ parties he and Oliver had thrown at the mansion. But after a few giggles and a night learning  _ all  _ about Stacey Cutting and her athletic endurance, Tommy didn’t feel too bad about it.

Yeah, Tommy Merlyn is an easy-going man, but it’s a stomach full of burning anger and resentment that he feels when he sees Oliver walking down the stretch of the hospital hallway.

Ever since he had found out  _ who _ his supposed best friend was –  _ what _ he had become – Tommy had found himself tiptoeing the line of dislike and hatred.

And yeah, he knows he can never hate Oliver, not really. But then Laurel’s pained voice is filtering out of the door and into the hallway and all he sees is red. Tommy turns his head towards Laurel’s voice, shooting her an encouraging smile as the doctor pokes and prods at her injured shoulder. Tommy can tell from the angle that its hanging that she probably dislocated it, and his fingers itch to beat up the scumbags in the Glades that had attacked her.

Tommy glances back up to Oliver’s approaching form, and for a second he’s stunned at the haggard look on his former best friend’s face. Oliver’s eyes are wide and frantic – his breathing is definitely a bit too fast for normal – and the suit he’s wearing is damp with some kind of dark liquid.

Oliver almost walks past Tommy, completely oblivious to his friend’s presence, and that does a number on Tommy’s feelings towards him.

Tommy reaches out quickly, grabbing Oliver’s arm a bit tighter than necessary and he swings the large man to face him.

“What the hell,” Oliver’s voice is low and threatening, and Tommy takes a step back when Oliver levels him with a terrifying look. It must take a second for Oliver to register who he’s looking at, and when he does he staggers backwards.

“Tommy?”

“You come to see Laurel, finally?” Tommy spits out, the anger he’s kept buried inside the past few weeks bubbling over. “Finally got your head out of your ass to realize that your friends and family – the people you’ve known your  _ whole life _ – are at least a tiny bit important to you? Huh?”

Oliver’s eyes have lost any malice and he stares blankly at Tommy.

“Wha -?”

Tommy moves forward, shoving Oliver back into the wall.

“Laurel was mugged –  _ attacked  _ in the Glades,” Tommy growls. “She tried calling you. Both  _ you’s.” _

Oliver shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing tightly together.

“Oh sure, play dumb. Ollie Queen is  _ really  _ good at that, huh?”

“Tommy, I – I didn’t know,” Oliver shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath. His voice is scratchy – like he’s been crying, or trying really hard not to, and it’s then Tommy takes in the red lining his eyes – the way he doesn’t look one hundred percent there. “ _ God,  _ is she okay?”

But it’s that question – laced with so much surprise and ignorance to the situation – that sets Tommy off.

“Yes, she’s  _ okay,  _ no thanks to you,” He roars, pressing up into Oliver’s personal space. “She has a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, and she’s fucking  _ terrified _ , but sure. She’s okay.”

Oliver lets out a small breath, his eyes closing momentarily in what Tommy knows is relief. He feels a little guilty then – maybe Oliver really didn’t know – but then - ,”

“Good, good, I’m glad,” Oliver starts, already trying to move around Tommy.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Tommy, I need - ,”

“What?” Tommy growls. “You aren’t even going to see her? Check on her yourself? What the fuck is wrong wi - ,”

“Felicity’s here.”

Tommy freezes, and suddenly he feels like he could definitely hate Oliver Queen. It’s one thing for Oliver to be the Hood. But placing the priority of  _ Felicity Smoak  _ over Laurel?

Tommy wants to punch Oliver – wants to knock so much sense into the man that he’d be a fucking philosopher once he was done.

_ Felicity Smoak. _

Tommy knows exactly who she is. She was the woman at the gala that Laurel said had yelled at Detective Lance after the man confronted Oliver about Sara.

She was the woman – a nobody – that went from fixing computers for the high ups to bringing Oliver Queen coffee every morning without so much as a speck of experience.

Laurel did  _ not  _ like Felicity Smoak and, by God, Tommy couldn’t fathom any reason to not agree with her.

“This is Laurel.” Tommy says. “Our Laurel.  _ Your  _ Laurel, Oliver.”

“Feli - ,”

“Oh yes,  _ Felicity’s here, _ ” Tommy spits out venomously. “ _ So what? _ I’m having a really hard time tolerating or liking  _ you _ right now, Oliver, and you expect me to care about some blonde bimbo that magically became your EA as soon as you became CEO? Do you know how much you hurt Laurel, spending all of your time with a fucking  _ stranger _ after literally coming back from the dead -,”

“Excuse me, Mr. Queen?”

Tommy and Oliver jolt at the new voice, and Oliver turns quickly to face the doctor. Tommy watches as Oliver’s face pales – as he shuts his eyes and takes in a steadying breath.

“Mr. Queen - ,”

“How is she? Is she okay? Is Felici - ,” Oliver’s voice cracks, and Tommy watches in confusion as Oliver presses a palm to his chest as if to steady himself.

The doctor sighs, years of joy and sorrow painting lines on his face. He glances at Tommy, but Oliver just waves it off, his eyes pleading the doctor to talk.

“It isn’t looking good,” the doctor starts and Oliver sags heavily against the wall and looks up at the ceiling, eyes burning with unshed tears.

A large man appears out of nowhere – John Diggle, if Tommy remembers correctly – and he’s taking in Oliver’s slumped form and the doctor’s heartbroken face and -,”

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” the doctor continues, and Oliver starts  _ shaking  _ and Tommy has to take a step back because  _ this _ isn’t right.

“I can’t,” Oliver starts desperately, his voice low and gravely as he looks at Mr. Diggle. “I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her Digg, I can’t - ,”

Oliver slumps even further against the wall, dragging his hand down the length of his face, and it’s then Tommy can see that Oliver’s sleeves are covered in blood.

His heart misses a beat.

“Mr. Queen, we are doing everything we can for Miss Smoak but you need to - ,” the doctor stutters. “You need to prepare for the possibility that - ,”

“ _ No. _ ”

Everyone except for Mr. Diggle jumps at the harshness in Oliver’s voice.

“No, don’t you  _ dare _ say that,” Oliver snarls, more Hood than himself. “You can’t fucking say that.”

“Mr. Queen,” the doctor sighs. “Is there anyone we can call? Any immediate family -,”

Oliver presses his lips into a tight line, shaking his head before he suddenly stumbles forward, pushing past all three men, and slumps over the trashcan before throwing up. His knuckles are white where they’re grasping the sides of the bin and his whole body is shaking and Tommy is terrified because he’s  _ never  _ seen Oliver like this with anyone.

Not even Laurel.

Mr. Diggle takes over talking with the doctor – Tommy hears him mention a  _ Donna Smoak  _ or something and all of a sudden he’s hit with the startling realization that Felicity Smoak is somebody to someone.

_ She’s somebody to Oliver. _

Tommy watches as Oliver presses his hand to his mouth – watches as his best friend since childhood loses the fight against his body and slumps against the wall just beneath the window of Laurel’s room.

Tommy glances through the glass and sees Laurel staring at him with wide-eyes but then Oliver’s shaking – he’s  _ sobbing  _ and gasping for air and Tommy crouches in front of him.

“I can’t lose her, oh  _ God _ I can’t lose her. Please don’t take her, please don’t take her -,”

Tommy feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and he moves out of the way as Mr. Diggle takes his spot, crouching before Oliver.

“Oliver, man, you gotta breathe.”

Oliver’s eyes flash up to Mr. Diggle’s.

“Digg,” his voice is raspy, cutting through the stale air like a thousand knives. “Diggle, it’s  _ Felicity _ .”

“I know.” Diggle’s voice is soft – drowning in the despair that has taken over Oliver. “I know, man.”

“It  _ can’t  _ be,” Oliver gasps. “God, Digg, it shouldn’t be her. It isn’t supposed to  _ ever  _ be her. It’s not  _ right.” _

_ “ _ I know, I know,” and the way Mr. Diggle’s voice cracks – the way the large man’s exterior crumbles as a tear falls down his cheek, pulls a breath from Tommy’s chest.

“C’mon man, breathe,” Diggle says, but Oliver’s looking down at his clenched hands, tears dripping onto the bloody scarf that he has scrunched up in his hands.

Mr. Diggle’s eyes catch the pale pink fabric, and he lets out a small whimper that seems so out of place. He turns around to glance at Tommy, and Tommy feels too much like he’s intruding.

“I have to go call Felicity’s mother,” Mr. Diggle says roughly, straightening up. “Could you?”

“Yeah,” Tommy breathes, eyes not moving from the way his childhood best friend stares almost catatonically at the scarf in his hands.

Mr. Diggle gives him a quick nod before pulling out his phone and walking down the hallway and soon enough, Tommy’s crouching back down in front of Oliver, his hand grasping at his shoulder.

Oliver’s eyes flash up and cloud with confusion.

“Tommy?” he rasps, and Tommy feels so much guilt and anger and sadness and helplessness that he has to take a steadying breath.

“C’mon, Oliver. Let’s get out of the hallway.”

Oliver nods, not really doing anything to move, but he cradles the pink fabric to his chest in such a tender way that Tommy begins to realize exactly who Felicity Smoak is to Oliver.

He pulls his friend up, a thousand conflicting emotions battling for dominance within him. He loves Oliver – he does – and he really doesn’t want any harm to come to Felicity Smoak. Hell, the only reason he had disliked her had been because Laurel had, and even Laurel only held a bit of angst towards the woman because she had  _ missed  _ Ollie.

They all had.

But this? This is fucked up.

“Give me a second, okay?” Tommy says to Oliver. “I’m gonna check on Laurel and then we’re gonna get all the blood off of you.”

Oliver’s breath catches as he takes in just how much of Felicity’s blood has seeped into his suit, but by the time Tommy comes back from Laurel’s room, Oliver’s gone.

* * *

Tommy searches for his friend on every floor. He scours the Queen’s private area – even looks up on the roof – but comes up empty.

There’s a tirade of dread swirling in the pit of his stomach, half worried of what Oliver would do to whoever had hurt Felicity, half worried that Oliver might end up hurting himself.

He’d never seen Oliver like that – never seen him  _ feel  _ so much.

Tommy finds him in the Chapel, kneeling on a pew, his head hung between his shoulders as he mutters. The pale pink scarf is grasped between his shaking hands and Tommy can’t do anything but stand and stare.

He watches his childhood best friend’s shoulders shake as a gut-wrenching sob rips through his body.

Tommy’s never seen Oliver cry.

He’s never seen him pray.

Tommy’s knees buckle when he hears what Oliver is saying.

“Please God, please don’t take her. I love her.  _ I love her so much _ . You take me and you leave her.”

Tommy presses a fist to his mouth, tears in his eyes as every bit of anger leaves his body.

“Just  _ please _ take me instead.”

_ God,  _ this is Ollie.

This is his best friend. 

This is his  _ brother. _

Tommy walks up behind Oliver and gently reaches for him, pulling Oliver up and off the pew and onto the bench next to him.

Oliver slumps into his friend, and Tommy comforts him just like Oliver did when Tommy’s mother had been killed.

Ollie’s his boy, and Tommy’ll always have his boy’s back.

* * *

Tommy waits with Oliver and Mr. Diggle in the waiting room.

He had popped into Laurel’s room earlier to tell her why he’ll have to come by later and he had watched as Laurel’s face had crumpled almost immediately – not because he had to go. Not because Oliver wasn’t in love with her anymore.

But because she is worried about Felicity Smoak.

“Go,” Laurel had told him, heartache painting her features. “Be there for Ollie.”

She’s always been better than the two of them.

Oliver only speaks once, and that’s when an older blonde woman with a tearstained face stumbles into the room.

She collapses into Oliver’s arms and while he comforts her for a while, he shatters apart when a nurse brings out Felicity’s glasses to hold on to and it’s Donna Smoak that sits him down in the seat next to her and pulls at him so that his head rests in her lap, his head pillowed on top of Felicity’s scarf.

She runs her fingers through his hair, taking shuddering breath as she tries to calm her own tears, and Tommy watches as Oliver finally,  _ truly _ breaks down in Donna’s arms.

It’s almost three in the morning when the double doors fly open, and Oliver pushes himself up off the chair with a pained groan.

Everyone’s standing now, even Tommy, and he looks at all the people in the room that love Felicity Smoak.

The surgeon is speaking quietly to Felicity’s mother, and the way she slumps against the doctor has Oliver almost doubling over in agony but then she laughs – Donna laughs – and she’s turning to Oliver and pulling him into a hug and  _ she’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay. _

The doctor takes Donna in to see her daughter and Mr. Diggle drops into his chair. Tommy follows suit, his heart pounding and chest aching, but then he catches Oliver’s eye from where he stands across the room and he shoots back up.

“Ollie, I’m  _ so  _ sorry - ,”

Oliver crosses the length of the floor in two strides and engulfs Tommy in a hug. Tommy’s own arms wind around his best friend, and the two stand there just as they had when they were six years old and reunited after a whole two weeks apart after Christmas break.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Oliver whispers hoarsely before pulling away. He lets out a small laugh, and even though his eyes are bloodshot and his face is tearstained, there’s a light in his eyes that Tommy has never seen before.

They move Felicity up to recovery after a while, and when Donna comes back, Mr. Diggle goes in to see her. Tommy’s a bit confused as to why it’s not Oliver in there first, but from the way he paces up and down the hallway, he can tell that even though Oliver completely loves this girl, it’s not a sentiment that’s been made public yet.

It’s only when Mr. Diggle comes out with a far calmer and happier expression that Oliver shoots up from his spot on the floor.

“She’s asking for you, man,” Mr. Diggle laughs. “Wants to know if you have her scarf. Said it’s her favorite.”

“She’s okay.” Oliver murmurs, more to himself than anyone else.

“She’s okay,” Diggle confirms, grasping Oliver’s shoulder. “You got her back, Oliver. Just like you said you always would.”

Both Tommy and Donna Smoak tilt their heads in confusion, but all Oliver can do is suck in a strangled breath.

“Yeah,” he whispers before turning in and slipping through the door.

Mr. Diggle and Donna Smoak mention something about coffee, and Tommy promises to join them in a minute. Right now, though, he stands outside of Felicity’s door lost in thought and it’s only when he hears Oliver talk that he pulls his attention to the window.

Oliver gently sits down on the side of Felicity’s bed, his movements so delicate and tender that Tommy is once again startled by the Oliver Queen in front of him.

Felicity’s hand reaches up to Oliver’s face, her fingers gracing his cheekbone and tracing the gash along his eyebrow that Tommy hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re hurt,” she whispers, voice raspy and tired.

Oliver captures her hand in his own and turns to press his lips against her fingers. Felicity’s eyes widen, but then Oliver lets out a breath that’s filled with so much relief and heartache. He closes his eyes and _squeezes_ them tight, as if to stave off tears, and he keeps Felicity’s hand pressed to his face like a lifeline. 

Oliver slowly opens his eyes, tears dancing over his irises.

“You can’t do that again.” Oliver rasps. “You can’t leave me. I can’t – I wo-, ” Oliver’s breath catches. He shakes his head, closing his eyes and a tear trails down his cheek. “You can’t do that again, okay?”

Felicity’s crying as she watches Oliver’s walls come down – as she watches him admit that he  _ needs _ her for more than running a business or being a vigilante. She’s nodding insistently and her lips are moving, but Tommy’s already moving down the hallway, not one to pry on an intimate moment.

He finds himself in the Chapel.

Two times in one day – must be a miracle, he thinks.

He shoots Laurel a quick text, telling her he’ll be home soon – telling her that Felicity Smoak is okay.

He knows he and Oliver need to talk – knows that there are still a lot of things that the two of them need to work through. He knows Oliver loves Laurel just like Oliver loves Tommy, and that, he realizes, is more than enough.

Whatever happens, though, Tommy’s pretty sure they’ll be okay in the end.

He’s an easy-going man after all.

(He’s also Oliver’s boy, just as Oliver is his, and he’ll always have his boy’s back). 

**Author's Note:**

> I literally extend my life by a billion years every time I read one of your comments - they are the BESSTTTT! Please please please let me know what you think! Love you all (and sorry for any typos)!


End file.
